


Like It's The End Of The World

by Undertale_Writing_Challenges



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: (no I'm not), Basically, Ecto-Penis (Undertale), Ecto-Tongue (Undertale), Ecto-Vagina (Undertale), I Blame Tumblr, I'm sorry Toby, M/M, No Plot/Plotless, POV Second Person, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn, Power Bottom Sans, Tralala beware the woman who is bad at tagging, because porn, but I have to ruin the fluff, hoo boy, k - Freeform, reader is sans, they're the cutest things ever, this is because of a couple of suggestion blogs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-08
Updated: 2018-02-08
Packaged: 2019-03-15 07:08:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13608201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Undertale_Writing_Challenges/pseuds/Undertale_Writing_Challenges
Summary: "* You’re all Papyrus can feel and see… he kisses you back like his life depends on it.* Suddenly, you’re on his bed… he flips the two of you over and begins to kiss every inch of you over and over again, intermitting the short kisses with long, drawn out ones on the mouth that only end when you feel the need to gasp for breath.* In the end, Papyrus collapses over your chest, sobbing with relief."In which the author ruins the cute fluffiness of a couple of suggestion blogs because she has a sinful mind.(and in which stretch finally ruins a blueberry with sticky honey)





	Like It's The End Of The World

**Author's Note:**

  * For [@sterls-world](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=%40sterls-world).



> god I don't deserve the good things. *sigh*
> 
> I've been wanting to write swapcest for a while because holy shitu these cute suggestion blogs @blueberry-suggestions and @stretch-suggestions god they're adorable and now there's a raspberry and they're going to end up in a poly relationship and it's all just fucking adorable.
> 
> but the problem is, it's just a bunch of fluffy stuff. and you know how I feel about fluffy stuff. WE MUST RUIN ALL THE FLUFF WITH P O R N!
> 
> honestly I didn't want to run them but it happened and this is happening now

You're shaking. He's there, kissing you. He's all you can sense. He's all that you need. You almost lost him today. You don't care. You need him. You need him _now_. 

 

When you pull back, you're in his room. You don't know how you got there, you don't remember him carrying you. But you're there now, and he's got you pinned to his bare mattress, and he's looking at you like you're all that's important in the world. You need him. So you call for him, "Papyrus."

 

"Sans?"

 

"Papy, I love you," You don't remember how many times you've told him today already. Not enough. Never enough.

 

"I love you, too," his answer is immediate as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. You love him so much. 

 

You pull him back down to kiss you, and this time you slip your tongue into his mouth. He gasps in surprise, but he pushes into you, tangling his tongue around yours and framing your cheek in his hand. Yes, this is what you need. More of this. More of  _him._ So you pull him closer,  _closer._ He'll never be close enough. Not after everything that's happened. You're never letting him go again, you need him next to you now. You need him near you. You need him.  _You need him._

 

So you'll take him.

 

There's a little bit of magic and a little bit of struggle, and now you're on top. You pull back and stare down at him; his face is slack-jawed and covered in an adorable orange blush. You love it when he blushes. Especially for you. You want him to blush more. So you tell him, "I need you," and his eyes flicker for a moment before lidding.

 

"You have me."

 

"No, I need you." You move your face into his neck and attack the bone with kisses and licks and suckles. You hear him whine and you feel him squirm and you want him to do it more. You let out a little whimper of your own. You feel so hot. He's making you feel hot. He'll take care of you, he always does. "I need you closer. I need to have you. Can I have you? Please?"

 

And he turns your face to his and he kisses you gently and he tells you, "You'll always have me," and he slips his warm,  _warm_ hands underneath your shirt and he caresses your spine. You whine and roll your hips against him and arch into his touch. Yes, he's taking such good care of you. You feel so good. But you want him to feel good, too. So you pull his hands away from you and you capture his wrists in one small hand and pin them above his head. He looks at you questioningly. 

 

"I want to make you feel good," you admit. And when you let go of his hands, he keeps them there. He's being so obedient. So you call him a good boy, just to see his blush get darker, just to see him look away from you in embarrassment. 

 

You push his hoodie up and over his head. You don't push it over his hands, you keep it there just in case he wants to get handsy. You want him to stay still for you. You look down at him and regard the long, jagged scar that reaches along his entire left side. Your hands hover over it. You hate the sight of it... _No_. You hate who made it. You couldn't ever hate a part of Papyrus. You look back up at him. He's not looking at you anymore. He has his head turned away from you and he has the most ashamed look on his face. You don't like that look on his face. He should never have that look on his face. So you tell him, "You're beautiful," and then you bow your head to lick a long, wet stripe along the scar. He arches against you and nearly screams and you almost jerk away entirely when he surprises you with his boldness.

 

"Don't stop!  _Nngh!_ Feels-- Feels good!" So you lick him more. 

 

He writhes and squirms and moans underneath you. He's never sounded so good. You feel so  _hot_ and so  _empty_ and you can't help but grind your hips down into his. Your slick coolness is met by a hard warmth and you moan softly and shiver. He bucks up into you and his whole body stills for a minute as he chokes out a cry. He wasn't expecting that. So you do it again. And again. And  _again,_ until he's meeting your thrusts and moaning freely beneath you. You feel so good and so warm, but it's not enough. You need more. You need him  _closer._ So you reach down and pull his shorts down just enough to free his throbbing length. It looks so...  _perfect._ Just like him. It's so big and so long and you want-- you  _need_ it inside you.

 

You slip your gloves off and you take him in your bare hand. You know your hands are cold, they always are, but you think he likes it because he thrusts up into your palm before you barely even touch him. You surge back up to kiss him, and it's a little awkward to keep stroking him because you're so much shorter than him, but he leans down a bit so you can and it's so perfect. He's moaning into your mouth and wrestling with your tongue. It's wet and messy and wild and you love it.

 

You reach your free hand into your own shorts, shoving one--  _two_ fingers into yourself. You're so wet and so ready, but you stretch yourself and play with yourself and moan into his mouth in response. It's not enough though, it'll never be enough until you have him inside you. You're impatient and needy, so you pull back from the kiss breathless, asking him, "Please, can I have you? Can I have you, Papyrus?"

 

"You--  _nnh_ \-- You do have me, Sans." 

 

You whine and rest your head on his chest and finger yourself faster. " _Noo,_ Papy," He's not giving you the answer you want and he knows it. He's teasing you, he has to be. "Can I have you inside me? Can I take you?" 

 

" _Sans, please,_ " But you're not going to relent. You need a yes. You need to hear that he wants this, too. You think he knows that because he begs you, " _Please_ Sans, please, I need you." 

 

You whisper to him, "I need you, too," and you pull back from him and slip your fingers out of yourself so you can shimmy out of your shorts. You fling them in some direction of his unusually clean room. You're okay with being a little messy for now. You can pick them up later. He looks a little surprised that you did that, but you're quick to wipe that look off his face when you rub his shaft against your puffy lips. This is  _exactly_ what you needed. His bulbous tip slips into you with a lewd  _pop!_ and you both moan as you slide down onto him. You take him slowly and he shivers underneath you, from pleasure or restraint, you can't exactly tell. He feels so good inside you, he makes you feel so full. 

 

"Sans? Are you--  _mmnh--_ Are you okay?" He looks out of breath but he's concerned, and you can't tell why until a little drop of blue liquid falls from your face and onto his chest. You're crying. You don't know why. It doesn't hurt, you feel so good. But once you realize you're crying, you can't help but cry harder. You bury your face into his chest and you plead with him, you beg him, to not ever leave you. And he tells you, "I won't."

 

And then you're moving your hips. Fast and frantic and frenzied. You're fucking down onto him like it's the end of the world, like you won't ever have another chance to in your life. You hear him call out to you, " _Stars_ Sans, sl-slow down!" But you don't, because you can't. You're not moving fast enough. You need him like this. He's writhing and moaning and he sounds so delicious. You'll never forget this moment, this moment in which Papyrus was yours and no one else's. No one will ever see him like this. This is your sight to see and yours alone. 

 

" _Gods,_ I'm n-not gonna l-last like th-this!" His voice sounds so raw, so broken and cracked with pleasure. He sounds  _perfect._ You reach down to where you're connected and you rub clumsy circles along your swollen clit. You're already so close, but you want him to come first. You want him to fill you up until you're almost bursting. So you angle your hips to take him deeper, faster,  _harder,_ and he cries out and arches off the bed. "Sans--  _nngh!_ Sans I'm gonna--"

 

" _Do it_ ," you purr. "Come for me, Papyrus.  _Mm--_ Fill me up," And that's exactly what he does. He curls forward, trying to press himself into you as much as he can as he shouts out your name. Spurts of warm magic strike the back of your walls, making you feel even fuller. It only takes a couple of swipes of your finger against your clit and your coming, too. Coming on your big brother's cock and milking it for all it's worth. You think you shout out his name, but you can't tell. He's all you can feel and think and it's perfect. You want to feel this way forever. 

 

But you can't.

 

You come down slowly, your entire body tingling with the dizzy warmth of your orgasm. You look down between you and slowly pull off of him, watching his seed seep from you in sticky strings. You must look lecherous, because you hear him wheeze. " _Fuck,_ Sans." 

 

You look up at him with a satisfied smile. He has the most adorable little hearts in his eyes, and you know that yours must mirror his. It's so rare that you get to see the small lights in his eyes change shapes, but every time you do it makes you unbelievably happy. You've never seen them change shapes for anyone else. You only want them to change for you. 

 

He slips his hands free of his cotton prison and he wraps his arms around you, pulling you close and moving you on your side. He gives you little kisses on your face and he whispers sweet things to you between each one. "You're still crying," he tells you. Those words seem to break whatever moment you just had, and you're openly sobbing. You almost lost him. You almost  _lost_ him.

 

"Never leave me,  _never._ "

 

"You're stuck with me."

 

"Promise?"

 

"Promise."

 

You're never letting him go again. 

**Author's Note:**

> what do you guys think, should I do another chapter where it's Papyrus' POV? or, well, technically, your POV but you're Papyrus. smh, 2nd person is confusing.


End file.
